


Familiar territory

by Liaeling



Category: Alexander (2004), Alexander Trilogy - Mary Renault, Ancient History RPF, Classical Greece and Rome History & Literature RPF, Dancing with the Lion - Jeanne Reames, Historical RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27398944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liaeling/pseuds/Liaeling
Summary: “Now they were far away from home and hearth, and things had changed. They were each other’s home and hearth. And sometimes the hearth burned high, scorching everything around it, making restraint a thing of the past.”
Relationships: Alexandros III of Macedon | Alexander the Great & Hephaistion of Macedon, Alexandros III of Macedon | Alexander the Great/Hephaistion of Macedon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Familiar territory

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write another story but somehow I felt like writing what I never write about directly: Erotic exploration.
> 
> This story is not particularly set in a time or place, it kinda floats between Susa and Ecbatana, I guess. Between the Susa mass weddings and Hephaestion's demise. But you can picture this anywhere, really.
> 
> I know that the terms of endearment used throughout the story are Modern Greek terms, but we don't have much on Ancient terms and I wanted to use something. Sorry if it's a bit confusing.
> 
> It's been years since I've written something like this, so hope you enjoy it.  
> Be sure to comment if you like it, I really appreciate hearing from you.

He was tracing a pattern down his back, slowly but steadily. Perhaps creating a new map, drawing upon his skin the new roads and gates, agoras and temples. He was slightly scratching down his spine, tickling slightly but not enough to make him react. He had always liked to tease, a side he liked to think no other ever saw but him. A childish King. 

“We can create a new path for the river, let it run across the city,” he whispered softly, breath dancing across his neck. 

His finger kept traveling down his spine, never faltering, its final destination already decided. He could tease, but he always knew what he wanted even if he didn't always act upon it. Self-restraint had been his way before, behind closed doors and between whispered secrets. Now they were far away from home and hearth, and things had changed. They were each other’s home and hearth. And sometimes the hearth burned high, scorching everything around it, making restraint a thing of the past. They were too close to death every day to practice philosophical principles.

“What do you think? A moat around the outer wall and an entry for the river, not unlike Babylon,” he whispered, this time close to his left ear. 

His finger had dipped between his legs, and was now searching intently but slowly for something he sometimes craved. They didn’t usually play like this, they barely had the time to meet. It had been months since they had taken the time to do  _ this _ .

“But what about the lands outside? There’s not that much water in the river, not as in Ba...” he started to answer, caught mid-sentence by a sensation he had missed terribly over the past years. His King had reached the spot. “Ba...bylon. The river is slow there, Alexander”.

Alexander was teasing him again. Slowly drawing circles close but not too close to his entrance. So that’s how it was going to be tonight. Slow and soft.

They could always make time for a different kind of game later.

Hephaestion felt a hand decidedly plunging into his hair, reaching his scalp and beginning to massage in the same rhythm established down below. He was lying on his stomach, Alexander half on top of him, one leg across his hip, chest slightly pressing on his side.

He liked it like this best, and he knew Alexander did, too.

This had been their preferred way to share love since their days at Mieza, when secrecy and silent love had been all they knew and wanted to know. Between the desire for privacy and their terror at Aristotle finding out, they had explored every side to silent love back then. Only later had they found out that Aristotle had known from day one, along with all their friends. It hadn’t been noise after all, it had been how they had looked at each other the morning after at Geography lesson. 

Still, silent love held a special place in their history. As they grew older it had become necessary to thread softly around the idea of shared nights in camp. The men talked, both high command and low.

In Chaeronea they had suffered constant teasing from full-grown veterans. Alexander’s beard had begun to show on day three, for once too busy to shave. The veterans had noticed, and their relationship had begun to grow discomforting for them. The Prince was too old for boyish love.

It had been uncomfortable up until Parmenion walked into their side of camp and shut everyone up by reminding them they were talking to the Prince, not a boy in the gymnasium. Only later would Parmenion tell Alexander that, back in the day, he and Philip had been teased, too. 

As things changed around them and Alexander became King, men talked a bit quieter around them, but still talked. At first, they had pretended not to hear. Later on, as Hephaestion kept rising in rank and finding more men under him in the hierarchy, they had started to wonder if it was better for them to change their relationship.

And they had tried to change it, more than once. And they had failed each and every time.

It wasn’t because they physically couldn’t, both he and Alexander had known all along that the physical side to their relationship wasn’t the deepest side. It was because, after all this time, it was easier and faster to meet skin against skin than mind against mind. The mind required time and patience, things they had during Council sessions and at symposia. But the body required little, a shared whisper and some soft sheets, sometimes even a dark corner in the room.

And body also meant release. From the terrors they created and experienced. Sometimes it was too much, too bloody and messy for anyone to keep under the bed. And sometimes they couldn’t.

Hephaestion could recall more than ten occasions of hard, violent sex between them. Biting and pulling, stretching and tearing. Sometimes, neither of them could control the pain and terror they felt underneath their skin. And it seeped out, scratching at each other’s throats and trying to choke their lives through their love making.

Guilt was never an issue with them. They both _knew_. They both had nightmares to deal with.

But when they could take the time and the stars aligned, silent love would be waiting for them to meet each other. And no words were needed. Only looks. It was in these nights that Hephaestion felt a different kind of scratching at his throat, and saw the same in Alexander’s eyes. It was in these nights that they ended tangled in bed, pushed together as two magnets, unable to let go of each other. 

And they talked. They shared everything they couldn’t outside the privacy of this shared space. Like they used to when they were younger. No thought or idea was taboo, no comment was censured. They were boys again, clutching to each other in their ignorance of the world, not conscious of how truly rare their bond was. 

“We could always connect the lands outside to a side channel of the river,” Hephaestion was pulled out of his reverie by Alexander’s breath on the base of his neck. He was lying on top of him now, fingers deep inside him, stretching him slowly.

He had found the spot. He was still teasing him, though. He would push on it lightly, then retreat, waiting for Hephaestion to break. His erection was pushed between his legs, slightly rocking back and forth between his relaxed thighs.

If they wanted, this could continue forever. And if they wanted, they could make each other come in seconds. They knew their preferred rhythms and weak spots, as well as the right sounds and words to utter to push each other over the edge.

But they also knew how much they both liked to draw it out, make it longer than it should be. They loved to ache with need, muscles straining to keep up with them, mind slow and lazy to the pleasure.

“If you leave a side-channel that runs outside the city, you also leave another opening for potential attacks,” he whispered, clutching the sheets under him as Alexander pushed harder into the spot inside him. “And… mmmh, right there… you weaken the battlements.”

Alexander was now pushing his erection right down his perineum, sliding back and forth in the same rhythm followed by his fingers inside him. Hephaestion was biting his lower lip now, eyes closed, head to the side to keep himself from suffocating against the clutched sheets. 

“Talk about weakening the battlements, beloved. Are you open for potential attacks right now?” Alexander whispered in his ear, teeth catching his earlobe and pulling lightly.

“Beloved for now,  _ latria mou,”  _ Hephaestion whispered arrogantly, using the most ardent term of endearment they used for each other:  _ my adored, my devotion. _ “We’ll see who’s the beloved and the lover tomorrow.”

Alexander chuckled in his ear, releasing his earlobe and pulling his fingers out of Hephaestion in the same movement. He could hear his arousal in the rapid rising and falling of his breath. His left hand was on his lower back, pushing him down into the Royal Bed slightly. 

He was taking his time. The bottle of oil had been emptied by now, most of it lost in preparing the beloved. Now he was using the last of it on himself, no doubt reveling in the sight under him.

Hephaestion still had his eyes closed, enjoying the mental images that came with the sounds around him. He could hear the brazier slowly burning to his left, beyond the open window, a croaking sound, perhaps a frog. Right behind him, Alexander’s breath was slowly gaining momentum, wet sounds a bit too rapid for mere preparation.

“If you dare come now, I will make you wish you were in Hades,” Hephaestion whispered, voice raspy and low. 

He heard Alexander chuckle again, but the words had worked its magic. No more wet sounds came from behind him. He felt him push down a bit harder on his lower back, right hand coming to rest next to his shoulder, trying to find the right balance. Hephaestion stretched his neck and took one of his fingers between his teeth, barely biting down.

“Such a tease,  _ matia mou _ ” he heard Alexander say, voice unable to contain his joy. He loved it when Hephaestion bit back, quite literally. 

“Don’t  _ ‘my dear’ _ me, you tyrant,” Hephaestion answered angrily, losing his patience now and finally opening his eyes to look back at Alexander. “Either get inside me or dismiss me from your bed.”

Alexander threw his head back and laughed, making Hephaestion silently seethe under him. He was rising on his elbows and beginning to push himself back into his erection when Alexander suddenly pushed forward and down, catching Hephaestion midway.

Pain and pleasure met inside him, making him catch his breath and gasp.

Oh, how he had missed this. Pull and push to get here, tease and surrender to finally meet and connect. He felt Alexander slowly rocking back and forth, chest lowering to push himself against Hephaestion’s back completely. The gift of his warmth behind him, around him, inside him was too much.

Alexander dropped to his right elbow next to his shoulder and Hephaestion found himself being pulled by the chin, making his face turn back in a sharp angle. He was met by Alexander’s lips, tongue slowly pushing inside his mouth, careful to keep the rocking motion of his hips in slow rhythm.

He lost all track of time or space. Eyes closed, hips rising slightly to create friction between his member and the bed, he felt like he was drowning. The sensations were too raw, too simple to try to name. He knew he was moaning against Alexander’s tongue, he felt him releasing his chin and slowly caressing his side, finding his way between his member and the bed slowly. He simply pressed his open palm against his slick head, letting the heat tease its way down right into his groin.

Alexander was barely moving inside him, yet he felt like the whole world had stopped in that motion. He was pulling out slightly only to push back in, his head pressing right into his spot and staying there for a while, pressure steady and sure. 

He knew how to take him, they had clearly established that a long time ago. Hephaestion had never felt shame at being pleasured by him, all those Athenian ideas of taker and taken were funny to them. And Aristotle’s ideas of  _ eros _ being baser than  _ philia  _ did not apply here.

They were everything to each other. Body and soul. 

Their  _ philia _ was  _ erotic _ at times, but on equal ground. It wasn’t young  _ eros _ , desperate and addicted. This was a love for touch, for closeness, and intimacy, both physical and spiritual. A  _ philia _ between equals, unafraid of hurting the other and aware of the need of being hurt in order to grow.

No matter how many times they parted, they would always find a way back to each other. Either in life or in death.

“ _ Zoi mou, zoi mou, zoi mou _ ,” Alexander was repeating, eyes closed, lips now tracing a path across Hephaestion’s back. He kept pressing inside against his spot, his hand around his member catching speed.

_ ‘My life, my life, my life.’  _

Hephaestion felt like crying. He always got emotional when Alexander called him that, either in the throngs of passion or incidentally in the middle of a deep conversation. 

He didn’t want this life if he was not in it.

And suddenly, without warning, he felt every muscle in his body go taunt, gaze clouding over. He was coming between half-suppressed sobs, clutching Alexander’s hand and pulling at the sheets simultaneously. He wasn’t sure if Alexander was under him or above him, he just felt him enveloping him completely. 

His scent, his quick breaths and his warmth were enough to drive him over the edge. This time around it had been the term of endearment and the surging of emotion from the pit of his stomach. He felt himself spilling into Alexander’s hand as his tears fell to the sheets.

And right as he was starting to feel something ebb away inside him, the pulsing in his ears beginning to slow down, he felt Alexander go taunt on top of him, silently taking it upon himself to reach a summit without slipping away.

Hephaestion was breathing hard, eyes still watering, but he found some strength inside him to look back and watch Alexander meet him in a place of bliss.

His chin was on his middle back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. His body was arched against him, hands clutching his hips as he shook inside him, letting his seed and soul pour into him. He was clutching so tightly, Hephaestion was sure he would get purple marks in some days.

Let him mark and scar him. He had marked and scarred him a long time ago, when he had looked at him in a grove of Mieza and whispered, “I will conquer the world only if you’re next to me.”

And he had.  _ They _ had.

Alexander slowly pulled out and, still shaking, came to lie next to him. He was staring straight at him from behind the barely-raised veil of pleasure.

Sometimes Hephaestion didn’t know which god to thank. Not even Zeus was high enough. They had crossed mountains higher than Mount Olympus. Who was he supposed to sacrifice to now?

Alexander slowly turned him to his side, handling him like he would a small child. He wrapped his arms around his neck, holding their faces close together, quick breaths mingling. He was always childish after physical love, he always wanted more than just the pleasure. 

He wanted Hephaestion’s  _ mind _ now. 

“How about that side channel for the river?” he asked between short breaths, lips so close to Hephaestion’s he felt electricity from the friction. 

Hephaestion closed the small distance and kissed him hard and long, wondering if Ahura Mazda or Ammon were high enough for his next sacrifice. Maybe he should raise a prayer to Para Brahman, the Indian god they had learned dwelt beyond all descriptions or representations.

One day he would find someone high enough to thank, he thought as Alexander bit his lip and chuckled. 

For now, he would relish in how little time they had together. Tomorrow the sun would rise and the stars would fade and they may yet find an ocean of blood and wails that would separate them.

But that was for tomorrow, he thought as he circled his King with his arms. Today was for love.

**Author's Note:**

> Just some historical notes:
> 
> In Ancient Greece (or at least 'Athenian' Greece) an erastes and eromenos (lover and beloved) were supposed to be separated by age to a certain degree. It was usually a beardless boy or youth with an older bearded youth or adult. Usually these relationships socially ended when the boy/youth was old enough to grow a beard, and coincidentally, marry and produce heirs. Probably, this meant 18/19 years old was the top ages accepted. All of this is Athenian, we know of several "variations" in Thebes (the Sacred Band) and Sparta, but still we don't have enough information to properly know what type of relationships were accepted and which weren't, or the ages when it started to become "uncommon" for society. 
> 
> We know for a fact that Philip, Alexander's father, spent his youth in Thebes. He received education from Epaminondas, became eromenos of Pelopidas, and lived with Pammenes, who was an enthusiastic advocate of the Sacred Band of Thebes. Whatever Philip experienced in Thebes, he came back to Macedon to rule and expand the Kingdom, and we are not entirely sure what type of traditions did he encourage for his Kingdom, and most importantly for the story, for his son.
> 
> Alexander and Hephaestion have always defied classification since they fall into a "boyish sling that lasted too long" by Athenian standards, not a proper erastes-eromenos relationship. Their ages, being too close together (not confirmed, we don't exactly know Hephaestion's age) are the main issue, but most importantly the duration of their bond.
> 
> We have no idea if it truly was physical beyond their youth days and into their conquering days, but still, it remains quite controversial even by today's standards, considering how high these men rose and how quickly they both fell, one following the other almost stricken down by deep grief.
> 
> Anyway, if you're interested, you can read a bit more about all this in Kenneth James Dover's "Greek Homosexuality" or William Armstrong Percy's "Pederasty and Pedagogy in Archaic Greece"
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
